


Without Packages, Boxes, or Bags

by littledust



Category: Alphas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>About thirteen Christmas episodes of various TV shows later, Kat makes herself a cup of cocoa in the kitchen and declares, "We should have an office Secret Santa exchange. You know, get into the spirit of the season."</p>
<p>FEATURING: last-minute gift shopping, an accidental Grinch, and the realest science the SyFy channel has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Packages, Boxes, or Bags

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mesonyx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mesonyx/gifts).



> Happy holidays, dear recipient! I had the utmost fun coming up with a totally ridiculous SyFy Christmas episode plot and working in the entire main cast of characters. May your first Yuletide be a grand one!

Kat's never bought into that whole "TV will ruin your mind" thing, since as far as she knows, all TV has done is enhance her skill set, but she's starting to believe that TV has a definite influence. It starts off pretty innocuous: after the Macy's Day parade, she sees a super cute movie with singing puppets and ghosts of various Christmas times. She watches the whole thing twisted sideways in an armchair, feet dangling over the side. HQ got a kind of upgrade after the latest battle, if by upgrade you mean "the government cruised yard sales for furniture." It makes for a nice homey feel, though.

One Christmas special turns into two, then three, then she can't stop watching. Gary stops by to watch _Frosty the Snowman_ with her, but leaves for _Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town_ because he doesn't like the way Claymation moves. Nina and Bill (of all people) know the lines of _Love Actually_ by heart and are suspiciously red-eyed by the end, although both claim that they're doing paperwork. Last Kat checked, paperwork didn't involve humming Joni Mitchell. Before Rachel pries her off the couch with promises of food, Kat watches all of _White Christmas_ and learns some sick dance moves.

About thirteen Christmas episodes of various TV shows later, Kat makes herself a cup of cocoa in the kitchen and declares, "We should have an office Secret Santa exchange. You know, get into the spirit of the season."

Bill is her entire audience, and the only reason she even has an audience is underhanded cocoa bribery. He takes a sip, giving himself a melted marshmallow mustache in the process, and swallows, eyebrows raised in a way that means, _Kid, you just had yourself a real dumb idea again._ After a moment, he says, "We just recovered from _comas_ , and you're worried about the spirit of the season?"

"Guess I'm used to waking up and wondering where a week went," Kat says, shrugging. Bill winces, but she's honestly used to it. What she does wish she could remember is what she (or whoever) did to turn the death bomb into a coma bomb. All they have to go on is Gary's account, which is one guy's desperate search for a functional signal to call 911. Gary gets really upset remembering, so Dr. Rosen only had him explain it once.

When Bill speaks again, his face is gentler, less _Kat, you rookie dumbass_ and more _Kat, I am having a big papa bear moment._ "Dr. Rosen just lost his daughter. It's gonna be hard for any of us to get in the holiday spirit."

Kat runs her finger around and around the rim of her mug, fingernail catching each time on the miniscule chip on the right. "For most of us, we're all the family we have left. Isn't Christmas a time for showing you care?"

"I give up," Bill says, and the Alphas Secret Santa Exchange is born.

*

Pitching the idea is weirdly easy--for some reason, half the team has been acting like she's mad at them. Probably something that happened pre-coma. Whatever. Kat's watched the footage and she can tell she actually likes this gang of misfit toys, so whatever they did couldn't have been too bad. Rachel is practically a Girl Scout, for God's sake. Anyway, the team agrees, and names get thrown into a large Santa hat that Kat purchased for the occasion.

"For those of you who are unaware how a Secret Santa exchange works, you draw a name out of the hat like so!" Kat says, withdrawing a folded slip of paper with a dramatic flourish of her hand. "When I read this name, I'm going to keep it to myself. Hence the 'secret' part of the exchange. I might even eat this paper for extra security, like they do in the FBI."

"No, they don't," Bill says automatically.

"Whatever, I aced Quantico. Then you will purchase or create your recipient a gift! On the appointed day, which is December 21 and also marked with a giant Christmas tree drawing on the calendar I bought for this occasion, we'll give our gifts and drink eggnog and eat cookies. Greatest day ever!"

"Why isn't John at this meeting?" Rachel asks, frowning. "Is he not a part of this?"

"The only person who wants to buy a present for your boyfriend is you, and I'm sure he wants to shower you with sweet nothings," Kat says, waving a hand. "Plus I already asked him and he said he wanted to provide the food."

"Well," Rachel says, clearly struggling not to sound _too_ mollified. "I guess that's okay. I don't even celebrate Christmas, really."

Kat's face falls. "Oh, man, I'm sorry."

"No, I like this Secret Santa idea. It's sweet, a lot sweeter than most of the Christmas frenzy that comes up this time of year. God forbid a pipe bursts in your house on Christmas Day..."

"Let's pick the names now," Gary says. "I want to eat my lunch." He pulls another slip of paper out of the hat, sticks it in his pocket without looking at it, and walks over to the refrigerator.

Kat blinks, then rustles the hat in what she hopes is an enticing fashion. "Any more takers?"

Bill and Cameron make two distinct yet equally hilarious faces at the names of their recipients. Nina winces. Rachel tilts her head, squinting as if she can't read Kat's perfectly neat handwriting, thank you very much. Dr. Rosen takes the last slip out of the hat and unfolds it with slow fingers. Nothing shows in his expression, though the new lines on his face are as drawn as ever as he takes half an egg salad sandwich out of his brown paper bag. The rush of empathy makes Kat's throat tighten. She hopes that whoever gets Dr. Rosen is a really, really talented gift giver.

Kat puts the Santa hat on her head, swishing her head from side to side a few times to hear the bells on the end jingle. She's done her part for Christmas merriment and team bonding. Speaking of her part, it's time to take a look at the name _she_ drew.

And of course the name staring up at her in perfectly legible blue ink is _Dr. Rosen._ Kat, the girl who can't remember a single Christmas, is tasked with creating the perfect Christmas for the man whose daughter just died in his arms.

"Ho, ho, ho," Kat says sourly, and shoves the offending piece of paper in her pocket. She has some research to do.

*

Procrastinating on gift shopping is one of those unwritten yet time-honored Christmas traditions. Suddenly, filing paperwork is super important. Things at the office have been slow ever since the mysterious coma recovery, a lull no doubt induced by the entire world watching for any signs of alphas. Watching, waiting, and probably planning half a dozen awful things. One of the first things Dr. Rosen said when the team reassembled was that anti-alpha sentiment would be on the rise and they'd likely be saving more people than arresting them.

The paperwork takes no time flat. Kat makes an entry in her video diary about how bored she is, then types "Christmas" into the YouTube search bar. Hours later, she's in the kitchen with a pair of scissors, a cardboard box, a hot glue gun Gary let her borrow (why he has one, she has no idea), and an industrial sized box of coffee filters. Look, it's not her fault the office could use a little holiday cheer. Can't have a Secret Santa exchange if it looks like just any other day at the office.

"Bill is probably gonna miss his coffee filters," Cameron says en route to the sink to rinse out his mug. He stares. "What on earth are you doing with them?"

"Making a wreath," Kat says, then mutters a curse as a glob of glue falls on the table. "We have no decorations up and, as far as I know, Rachel is the only one who doesn't celebrate! Plus we're all doing the Secret Santa exchange! You know that you want to take over paper snowflake duty. Anyone with your ability can produce winter wonderland with scissors."

Cameron places his mug on the drying rack, eyebrows raised. "What is up with the Christmas obsession? I've been meaning to ask." Kat notices with no small amount of triumph that he sits down at the table and picks up the pair of scissors anyway. Score.

"This past year sucked," Kat says. "What I remember of it, anyway, and the videos tell me that the suckiness was consistent throughout. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I met all of you guys and get to save the world with my kickass powers of justice, but I think all of us need a little TLC."

That earns her a smile as Cameron folds a square of paper with expert precision, then starts cutting little shapes out of the resulting triangle. "I loved doing Christmas with Tyler. He was into decorating ornaments. After years of painting them into baseballs and basketballs and soccer balls, I came home with some white ones shaped like footballs. I thought he was going to break them, he was so excited, but he was so careful with the paintbrush you could even tell where all the little stitches were supposed to be."

Kat flips the cardboard on its side to continue gluing coffee filters. This isn't as professional looking as whatever wreath template Martha Stewart had on YouTube, but she's working with what she has, and what she has is office supplies. "I wish I could remember any kind of holiday, you know? They seem like so much fun."

"Yeah, well, Christmas commercials tend to leave out all the fighting and drinking," Cameron says, opening his piece of paper to reveal a lacy, intricate snowflake.

"Scrooge," Kat says, but it comes out wistful rather than angry. Paper snowflakes don't make things perfect, but she might as well try. It's all TV has to offer.

*

The team starts calling it "crafts madness" after the gingerbread house village takes shape on the TV tray Kat brought out specifically for the occasion. Gary and Rachel don't appreciate the new lack of space in the kitchen, so Kat pacifies them by letting them have the last of the gumdrops. Dr. Rosen makes a vague "very nice" comment after Kat points out some of the decorations to him. Cameron apologizes to everyone for enabling her. Bill eats a snowman in a terrible act of marshmallow carnage that Kat is still reaming him out for (in between trying to knit a mitten) when Nina enters the kitchen.

"I heard raised voices," she says, arching an eyebrow. Bill mutters a final "sorry" and leaves, because Nina's secondary power is getting people to do what she wants _without_ using her alpha power.

Nina sits down at the table, positioning herself across from Kat. Both her eyebrows are arched now, probably at the sight of the needles, yarn, and partially completed mitten in front of Kat. "I think we need to talk."

"You have something against adorable winter wear?" Kat asks, taking a stab at humor. Nina purses her lips in response. "No, then. Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Just... what is going on with you? Why are you the Spirit of Christmas Present?"

"Ghost of Christmas Present."

"See, that's what I mean. It's like Christmas is your drug of choice."

Kat stares at her. "Nina, are you asking to be my Christmas addiction sponsor?"

Nina shrugs. "I know a thing or two about addictions. They're usually to compensate for something you're lacking in your life."

Kat pulls at a piece of yarn, slowly unraveling her mitten. Those six knitting tutorials on YouTube were handy, but if the team (or at least Nina) is this worried about her already, they probably won't react well to seven hand-knitted stockings hung with care. Where would she even hang them, anyway? She doesn't have her own office. She needs to get on that. "Why does everyone keep asking me why I'm doing this? Can I just ask all of you why you _don't_ want to do something nice for the few people who care about you?"

That remark earns her a jaw clench. Nina looks away, chest rising as she takes in a quick breath. "When you put it like that, it certainly sounds stupid."

"I didn't mean it like that." Kat finishes untangling the yarn and heaves a sigh, planting her face in the tangle of navy blue yarn. Muffled, she continues, "You guys are the only family I have, and you almost died. Dr. Rosen's family _did_ die. I want everyone to be happy, but the only things you guys want are things I can't give. I wish I could wave my hand and bring Dani back, but..."

"Thus, the Christmas madness," Nina finishes softly. Her chair scrapes as she stands, and then there's a hand in Kat's hair, tousling it. "Rosen is your Secret Santa, isn't he?"

"Yup. I'm a Christmas failure."

"This whole thing is about feeling loved. Just give him something that makes him feel that way."

"You make it sound so simple," Kat says, but she picks up her knitting needles again, the beginnings of an idea forming.

*

"You guys are _never_ allowed to complain about me acting crazy again," Kat proclaims. "Look at all of this!"

"We've seen worse," Bill says, mouth set in a grim line.

"But not much worse," Gary adds.

Kat raises her fists up to chest level, elbows pointing out and to the sides. "Let's make our way through last-minute Christmas shopping in New York City, boys."

Everything sort of blurs together for the next two hours, and not due to her ability's side effects or any fun mind-altering substances. It's dog eat dog, kill or be killed, and every other cliche Kat can think of, all wrapped in layers of shiny paper and tinsel. This is mostly Bill's fault but partially Gary's: Bill begged her help with buying presents for his wife and Rachel; Gary muttered something about preferring online shopping but wanting to get something special for his mom, still recovering from her hospital stay. After that, how could Kat refuse?

On her way to hustling the boys to the nearest mall's Bed Bath & Beyond ("I don't know about smelly stuff for Rachel--" "Just trust a woman's intuition!"), Kat passes a tiny store with a huge, sparkly sign reading PRINCESS CHARMING. Going by the window display, it's a novelty jewelry store.

"Come on, Gary, let's check this out," Kat says, reaching out to tug Gary's sleeve. She stops herself just in time. He already looks unhappy in the midst of the crowd, and the Bed Bath & Beyond won't be much better. "Don't look so scared about going in alone, Bill. Head straight in, grab the first aromatherapy kit you find along with the stuff your wife wants, and you're gold. Use your superpowers if you have to."

"I might," Bill sighs, but heads in solo anyway.

The inside of the jewelry store is much quieter, though there are still plenty of people perusing the merchandise. The woman behind the counter calls a weary-sounding greeting. Kat nods in response, then eyes a pair of zipper-shaped earrings thoughtfully. Would it be wrong to buy herself a present while Christmas shopping?

"Maybe I should pierce my ears," Gary says. "I've been trying a lot of new things lately. I think I'd rather pass my road test, though."

"Probably a better life choice," Kat agrees. "But I think you'd look pretty cool with a piercing. I could treat you for your birthday."

"That's okay." Gary turns one of the stands, moving from an earrings side to a necklace one. "I see something my Secret Santa would want. Do you think my mom would like a bathrobe? You haven't met her, but she's nice and likes to be warm."

"Sounds great, Gar," Kat says, checking her watch. She hopes Bill doesn't really have to use his powers to get out of the store, but stranger things have definitely happened. It's with some relief she observes Bill, wild-eyed but shopping bag in hand, approach them only minutes after Gary buys whatever he found.

They start making their way to the exit, but the crush of people threatens to swallow Kat. She has to elbow her way past two guys fighting over a display stand to get to Bill and Gary. Bill pulls her the last few feet when the brawl threatens to get out of hand.

"I feel like I should do something," Bill says.

"I don't think you can fight off every single person fighting right now," Gary says, frown of concentration and precise gestures signaling that he's watching different feeds. "They're all in different parts of the mall, too."

"Well, at least I got my present for--Hey! Where'd it go?"

"Where did _everything_ just go?" Kat wonders

"More fights are breaking out," Gary says. "People are saying their presents are disappearing." His voice takes on edge. "I don't think we can get to a single exit from here unless--" He flicks his fingers in the air. "We have to go now! Left!"

It's handy to have a teammate who's basically the Incredible Hulk. Kat keeps low to the ground, leaping over spilled packages as Gary guides them out of the fray with his usual precision. _This is like a mission,_ she thinks. _Chaos, crying people, people filled with murderous rage. What the hell is happening?_

The clamor seems to have spread outside the mall as well. Gary shouts something about news reports of gifts disappearing all around Manhattan as sirens wail in the distance, growing louder as they draw closer. They stumble into headquarters and the ringing in Kat's ears stops long enough for her to make out Gary's words: "Emergency meeting! Dr. Rosen thinks it's an alpha doing this."

"What, like an alpha Grinch?" Kat asks.

"Exactly. Presents don't just vanish into thin air, particularly when people are holding them. Whoever did this took the presents, the decorations, the food--everything!"

After a beat, Kat can't resist adding, "He even took the roast beast."

*

There's nothing Kat can do to help locate the alpha Grinch, as they're calling him (what can Kat say, she has a silver tongue), so she goes to finish the scarf she's knitting for Dr. Rosen. Unfortunately, all the knitting tutorials in the world don't lessen the time commitment for actually making a scarf, and she keeps changing her mind about the color and design. What scarf best says, _Hey, you're pretty cool and you help a lot of people and I'm really sorry about your daughter and I hope you have the merriest Christmas you possibly can under the circumstances_?

She holes up in Nina's office, because Nina already knows the identity of her Secret Santa anyway, and gets down to business. Scarf Take Four is striped in green and gold, and Kat has yet to come up with any negative associations for either color or pattern thus far. (Scarf Take One was going great until Kat realized her soft red yarn reminded her of blood. Scarf Take Two was blue with white snowflakes and looked like a something appropriate for a kindergartener. Scarf Take Three is best not discussed under any circumstances.)

Rachel opens the door and Kat lets out an undignified shriek, clutching the scarf to her chest in a vain attempt to hide it. "Did we forget the secret part of Secret Santa?" she asks, shoving as much yarn as she can under her hoodie. "Who else is with you?"

"Nobody," Rachel says. "I promise to act really surprised if that's my present. Nice yarn, by the way, I like the texture. Dr. Rosen and Gary think that they found a pattern in the disappearances. We're just confirming that none of the presents disappeared from the office. Come on, I think we're about to come up with a plan."

Kat stows Scarf Take Four and heads to Dr. Rosen's office, where he's projected a large map of the area on a whiteboard. He nods when Kat and Rachel sit down, then pulls out a dry erase marker.

"We've intercepted enough confirmed reports of holiday item disappearances to start mapping where the incidents are taking place," Dr. Rosen says. He starts making X's on the map. "The radius extends roughly one mile, and what's interesting is that there are reports of _parts_ of things being missing. One half of a wreath left while the other half just vanished into thin air. When you connect all the dots, you start seeing... this." Dr. Rosen draws a line through the outermost set of X's, then spirals down through the rest of the X's.

At some point, Kat must have watched a math documentary or something, because she blurts out, "The golden spiral."

"Precisely. These events are all laid out on a Fibonacci spiral, with the centerpoint being right where you three were shopping earlier today."

"So our alpha was in one of the busiest places in one of the most populated cities in the world?" Cameron asks. "Great."

"It's something to go on," Bill says, studying the map. "What else do we know about the disappearances? Any alpha-related terrorist groups sending up any flags? Where did all this stuff go? One minute it was in my hand, the next it wasn't."

Rachel tilts her head, squinting at Bill. "If I push my ability to the limit, I can see a kind of haze around you. I think your present got... demolecularized, for lack of a better word. Everything must still be _there_ , just not in recognizable form."

"The radical groups don't know anything," Gary says. "One is trying to take credit, but I hacked their e-mail and their leaders didn't have anything planned."

"More likely it's the action of an individual," Dr. Rosen says. "It makes sense with the single point of origin. Could this be religiously motivated?"

"If it's religious, why not start it all in a church?" Cameron argues. "If it's in a mall, it's more likely someone who wants to cause the most panic possible."

Kat walks over to the map, replaying the last hour in her mind. Something feels _off_ about all their alpha Grinch theories. She says slowly, "Everything related to Christmas disappearing? That doesn't just scream Grinch, that screams someone more sick of the holiday season than anyone else."

"Customer service," Nina says. "'Tis the season to shop till you drop. I bet our alpha has had enough."

"It's the theory with the smallest amount of people involved, so we'll try that first," Dr. Rosen says. "Gary, can you pull up the shops located at the precise origin of the spiral?"

Gary nods and waves his fingers. "Two shops: the Bath and Body Works and the jewelry shop next door. Its name is Princess Charming."

Bill picks up the phone, already putting in a request both for personnel files and a lockdown of the area. "As soon as we've got the information, we move," he says. "With this kind of widespread panic, we want to get this resolved as soon as possible. If we even can resolve it."

"Let's hope for the best." Nina flashes Kat one of her trademark devil may care smiles. "Maybe they'll make a movie about us if we save Christmas."

*

According to Gary, none of the hapless employees working at either store have been able to fight their way through the raging hordes to leave the shopping mall. "Except this guy Clarence, he doesn't have a cell phone, so I'm not sure. Why wouldn't he have a cell phone?"

"Some people don't like technology, Gary."

"Some people are weird."

"No arguments there."

The team leaves Gary and Dr. Rosen to act as their technological eyes and their tactical leader, respectively, and then it's back through the throngs of people again. At least the police are out in force, breaking up the riots and letting them screech past in Dr. Rosen's car. Kat would be excited to be out in the field again, except they're literally trying to save Christmas. She's got a hell of a lot riding on the success of this mission.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Christmas is about more than the perfect gift, but New York City isn't exactly Whoville. Things are going to get even uglier if they don't fix things the way they were.

"Whatever demolecularization process the alpha used, it should be reversible," Dr. Rosen is saying into their earpieces as Cameron parks the car in the middle of the sidewalk and they pile out. "Matter doesn't just wink out existence; it converts to another form. What's unknown is whether the alpha will be able to reverse the conversion or whether we'll have to--do something I haven't worked out yet."

"Everybody cross your fingers," Rachel mutters. She turns her head and points. "First guy we profiled at three o'clock. Let's move." They spread out in two groups: Kat and Bill, then Rachel and Cameron and Nina.

The first two employees on the list are certainly disgruntled, but they don't know anything about the disappearances, and nothing about them seems unusual enough that the team suspects them of causing the fiasco by accident. The first one just kept repeating, "I want to go home. I want to go home." The second one had similar sentiments, albeit with more expletives.

The third one on the list doesn't work at Bed Bath & Beyond. She's Elena Jennings, the sole owner of Princess Charming, and it turns out she's the tired-looking woman who waved at Kat earlier. Now she looks even more tired, to say the least: she and Bill find her passed out behind the counter of her store.

"Lucky there weren't any looters around," Bill comments as he shakes her shoulder. "Ms. Jennings? Ms. Jennings?"

"My head," she moans, one hand going to her temple as she sits up. She squints at Kat. "Your friend bought something earlier. I never forget a face."

"Must be nice," Kat says. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Oh, a customer tried to haggle down the price to something less than the materials I used for the bracelet. He screamed so loudly he drove out the other customers. I don't think he hit me, so I guess I just passed out after that." Elena pulls her legs up against her chest, huddling in on herself, and lets out a loud sniff. "Sorry. I'm just--tired of this. Thanks for coming to my rescue."

" _I think our Grinch is more of a George Bailey_ ," Dr. Rosen says over the earpiece. " _Kat, you already have a personal connection with her, however marginal. Talk to her, find out what may have happened._ "

"Wouldn't it be great if Christmas just disappeared?" Kat asks, because subtlety is not her strong suit. Bill makes a choking noise that he tries to cover by pretending to cough.

"I wish," Elena says. "Or, I mean, I don't know. I want to go home and see my family, but they're all brilliant and successful and getting married and having kids. What do I have besides my GED and a store that barely makes ends meet?" She gives a rueful laugh. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Must be the knock on the head."

" _I liked what I bought,_ " Gary says. " _Tell her, Kat._ "

"I know my friend loved what he bought," Kat says, sitting down next to Elena. "We all work together, actually," she says, gesturing toward Bill. At Elena's skeptical look, she adds, "Gary and I are interns. Lot of science stuff, very boring. _Some people_ waited until the last minute for our office Secret Santa."

" _Is this story going somewhere, Kat?_ " Nina asks. Everyone must be listening in, great. " _I'm not trying to be cruel, but this woman needs cheering up. You don't want to disappear next._ "

"Anyway," Kat says, "as much as the people I work with annoy me and sometimes treat me like a little kid, they're the only family I have. They always have my back, no matter what."

Elena closes her eyes, lips curving in a small, exhausted smile. "So what, I should suck it up and enjoy the holiday season?"

"Basically," Kat says with a shrug of one shoulder. "You never know how long that family that makes you feel inadequate is gonna be around. Christmas is as good an excuse as any to be with the people who love you."

"Cute," Elena says, but when she opens her eyes, her eyes are bright. Too bright, Kat realizes, and then there's a _pulse_ , a sensation akin to standing next to a speaker at a club except the vibration is soundless. Elena's eyes roll up in her head and she slumps on the floor again.

"Houston, we have Christmas," Kat says, looking up at the bright, sequined HAPPY HOLIDAYS banner now hanging above the cash register. Cheers ring through her earpiece as Bill throws his arms around her into a bear hug.

"Merry Christmas, Kat," he says.

She makes a face. "I thought you didn't do hugs."

"Enjoy it, 'cause it's the only present you're gonna get from me."

*

Things don't get simple despite all the Christmas trappings reappearing. It would be nice if life were more like a Christmas special, but Kat knows better than to confuse the two. Elena is going to wake up in the hospital with her family, but she'll also wake up with federal agents just around the corner, wanting to track her every move. Maybe Dr. Rosen will end up teaching her how to control her powers; more likely, someone less _controversial_ will train her. Her life is about to change, whether she likes it or not.

But who knows, maybe it could change for the better. Could be she needed a change and didn't know how to make one. Kat dons her Santa hat for the second time in ten days and bounces into the kitchen, where she can smell something delicious cooking for lunch.

"Merry Christmas!" John says, waving from the stove. He's wearing an apron that says KISS THE COOK with a sprig of mistletoe pinned to the front. Kat grins. "The chicken's about to come out of the oven, the salad and the fruit platter are already set up courtesy of Rachel, the chili is hot, and I bought what I was assured is authentic New York cheesecake."

"I took care of the music," Gary announces, pointing to the iPod dock installed next to the little office Christmas tree. At his motion, [a familiar piano version of "O Christmas Tree" begins to play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0vs0rASh80). " _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ is the best Christmas special, Kat. You should admit it."

" _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ or bust, man."

The rest of the team arrives bearing wrapped packages, which Kat directs under the Christmas tree. John's food is delicious and the mood is light--really light, not just oddly quiet from the relative inactivity in their division--for the first time in ages.

When it looks like everyone has more or less polished off their dessert, Kat cups her hands around her mouth and announces, "Let the gift-giving commence! As your Santa for today, I'll be distributing presents! Did you make the nice list this year, or were you sentenced to the naughty?" She leans over and picks up the beribboned gold package. "To Rachel, from Bill!"

Rachel sniffs as she accepts the package, then breaks into a smile. "I don't even have to open this. Thanks for the candles, Bill."

Next up is a small green package to Cameron from Nina. Kat valiantly resists adding _ooh, awkward_ after she announces the name. Cameron unwraps his present: a pretty silver picture frame, a picture of him with his arms around his son already inside it.

"Don't ask how I got the picture developed, just accept it," Nina says, smiling.

Rachel's present to Gary is a tin of cookies, which she promises have all been baked to his specific flavor and texture preferences. Gary opens the tin to take a cautious whiff, then ends up eating two cookies immediately. "You should be a chef when you're not being a federal agent," is Gary's final verdict.

Bill gets some custom made calming teas courtesy of Dr. Rosen. "My wife will appreciate these." Bill rolls his eyes at Kat's glare. "Kidding! This will make the switch easier. Much obliged."

Kat finds a small square box under the tree with NINA printed on it in Sharpie. "This is for Nina, from Gary, I'm assuming, since it has the Princess Charming logo on it." Nina's gift is [a necklace with a vintage car charm](http://www.etsy.com/listing/96037595/1950s-car-lovers-necklace?ref=sr_gallery_17&ga_search_query=car+necklace&ga_order=most_relevant&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=US&ga_page=2&ga_search_type=all) on it. Gary explains, "Now you have a real nice car, so you don't have to borrow other people's cars anymore. That was a joke."

"I love it," Nina says, already fastening it around her neck.

"This is for you," Kat says, passing her own box to Dr. Rosen. She sticks her hands in her pockets rather than give her nerves away by fidgeting as he carefully tears off the wrapping paper, then lifts the lid of the box to reveal the scarf underneath.

"Kat, this is lovely. Did you make this yourself?" Then Dr. Rosen unfurls the scarf all the way, revealing the cursive A knitted on the bottom stripe, and smiles. "You did make this yourself."

"A for alpha. Merry Christmas, Doc," Kat says, daring to kiss his cheek. She has to stand on tiptoe to do so and he puts a warm hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

"Now, I didn't forget about you, if that's what you're worried about," Cameron drawls. He takes a box wrapped in shiny red paper out of the microwave, pressing it into Kat's hands. Kat caves to her little kid impulses and has the paper off in three seconds flat. Her present is a large, soft brown teddy bear with black button eyes, a shiny black nose, and a little red mouth. Kat blinks away unexpected tears as she cradles the bear in her arms.

"My son's first Christmas present was a teddy bear," Cameron adds, shrugging uncomfortably at Kat's display of emotion. "I figured since you couldn't remember your first, this would be a good place to start."

"It's perfect," Kat says, hugging her teddy bear.

After that, Rachel whips out another tin of cookies, this one slightly less customized but no less delicious. Kat stays toward the back by the Christmas tree, still clad in her Santa hat and holding her brand new bear, just to take it all in. She did this, pulled together a party of people who were grieving and lying and lost. They still have plenty to celebrate, it turns out.

Kat happens to glance out of the window just as the first flakes of snow begin to fall. It probably won't stick--this still isn't the perfect Christmas of the movies--but she can't help but hum "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" as she's drawn back into the happy bustle of her teammates, her _family_.


End file.
